


Roxy: Engage in the Dark Carnival

by CheatsatUNO



Series: Feathers and Fire [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, I'm Bad At Tagging, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 06:27:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/896925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheatsatUNO/pseuds/CheatsatUNO
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roxy has to deal with what she's done and face her punishment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roxy: Engage in the Dark Carnival

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in like, half an hour, sorry if it's not very good. But this is how roxy got demoted in my little Hell Hound AU. This was the rule she broke. Enjoy~

You accept the bartender’s offer for a refill of whatever it is you’re drinking. You don’t remember. You don’t care, either. You were down here, at some stupid bar. The workers kind of knew you; you came here often enough for a quick drink. It wasn’t like you were an alcoholic, at least not anymore, but you did enjoy the occasional drink. But who were you kidding right now, you were probably going spiral back down into the comforting numbness brought on by too much to drink tonight because you were now downing your fourth or fifth glass—you’d lost count—of this mystery drink.

After the contents of the glass are making their way down your throat and their effects clouding your judgment—as if you even needed help with _that_ —you are asking for another refill. By the time it comes your head is cradled in your hands and you don’t acknowledge the arrival of it. You just sit there, wondering what had come over you. What had you been thinking?

You hadn’t. That was the problem. You’d let your emotions take over and all it got you was this. Nothing. Nothing but disgrace and shame. The way Jake and Rose had looked at you. They’d been so ashamed. So sad. You’d wanted to cry but nothing came. Your friends—hell, one of them was your superior!—had looked at you with disappointment as you were cast down. Never to return. 

_Demoted_. They called it. _Lucky_. They called you, for not being cast down further than just Earth. You sneer into your hands and bring them away from your face and stare at them, as if they are the reason for your misfortune. For letting so many people down. For a moment, you remember just a few hours ago… when your hands and body had been filthy with blood.

 

\--

 

“Come on, Janey! Please please please!” You beg to your charge. Jane, an insecure prankster girl with curled black hair cut boyishly short. She was sweet and funny but she didn’t trust others easily so it had been hard getting to know her and finding believable excuses to be so close to her all the time. Dave had it easy, as much as John was a sweetheart, he wasn’t too bright and never question Dave’s motives. Lucky.

Jane rolls her eyes and smiles. "Roxy, you have too much of a sweet tooth.” Jane chides and you laugh.

“If I could wear cotton candy as an accessory you know I would.” You tease, shoving her playfully.

“Hoo hoo!” She lets out and shoves you off towards the cotton candy vendor and you wave dramatically before dashing off to buy yourself the sweet treat. The two of you are currently enjoying a boardwalk festival of some kind, various stands and vendors are set up around, not to mention the games and rides that were actually all pretty fun. You hold the stuffed black cat closely to your chest as you watch the man spin your sugary cloud of yum. Jane won it for you, knowing your love for cats. She’d tried to prank you by asking for one that was probably defective because there were two extra eyes stitched in white on the soft fabric. But the joke was on her, you still loved it!

You aren’t gone long, just a moment why you buy the treat and then you are back in the spot you’d left Jane. Except Jane isn’t there anymore. A smile crosses your face.

“Oh Janey! You aren’t going to trick me again. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, well that just won’t happen because I’m better than that!” You laugh and are met with silence. A few people give you odd looks as they pass, to them you are talking to thin air. But you don’t care.

More silence.

Now you are starting to worry. You take a few steps forward, you don’t know why, and call out her name again.

“Jane?” A muffled sound comes from a shadowed area between two stands, both dark and empty, probably closed for the night. The space between the colorful stands is narrow and dark but you hear it again. High pitched and muffled. And pained. 

Without second thought you rush into the space and see three men, surrounding Jane. She looks so scared when her eyes lock onto yours. Bright blue orbs focus for only a second before glazing over as one of the men slits her throat. 

You don’t scream, you don’t run, you don’t do anything. 

“Janey?” You whimper, drawing the attention of the three men to you. They look like your average thugs. Probably trying to rob Jane but Jane would have none of that. You know she’d probably argue and fight against them, probably why she’s dead now. The realization hits and the pang in your core is almost crippling. The pain of losing a charge.

“Hey their girly.” One of the men says sweetly. But it isn’t sweet, it’s sick and you want him to stop. Stop advancing towards you. Stop talking in that voice. Stop _breathing_. 

So you help him. 

Once he gets close enough you lunge forward and grip his throat tightly. He seems surprised and you end him quickly; nails dig into soft skin and your hands stain red with his blood as you puncture holes in his neck. The other two men are in shock at your sudden shift, frozen. The man beneath you ceases in his thrashing and lays still on the wood off the boardwalk. 

You stand and this seems to snap the other two out of their stupor because they run at you. The man with the knife is closest and you punch him in the face, hearing a satisfying crack as you break his nose. He yelps and you take the knife from his hands quickly, slitting his throat with ease. He falls to the ground and you turn on the last man.

He looks scared, fear shining bright in his eyes. They are met with your fury filled ones. You bash the hilt of the knife on his head and he drops like a rock. After a quick movement, you find yourself flipping onto his back and straddling his waist, plunging the knife all the way to the hilt into his heart. 

You sit there for a while, breathing hard. No one heard anything or saw anything. Everything somehow remained private in your shadowed space. You take a moment to examine the area, four dead bodies and one mess of an angel. You’re covered in the filth that came from those men’s veins. It’s disgusting and warm and you want it off. You don’t want any part of their scum on you.

From the corner of your eye you notice the stuffed cat Jane won you. It’s covered in bright red and half hidden by the body of the man whose throat you cut open.

The heavy weight of what you’ve done falls on you and a hand claims your shoulder. You turn.

Jake.

You’ve never seen that look in his eyes but… It brings you back, back to your senses. You are no longer empty and raging. You are crying and in deep, deep shit.

Angels did not kill humans. 

It was a rule.


End file.
